Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1887-04-08

to see such symptoms Of decay in this man of
| princely heart and brain. At last the girl
| observed that her father could not speak GER
tain words distinctly any more. His
articulation was thick and difficult, like that
of drunken man. But this was not the
| worst Others, outside of the stone house.
| began to notice the change, too, and to talk
of it, Ere long the everlasting Mis- Simp-
kins tackled black Sam in the village Said
| she:
OTIS beginnin' to be whmpered about
among folks hyer in town that Col. Car
stone is losin' of his mind"
"What in thunder you taliin' aboutl" re-
| piled Sam, with an indignant air. He had
heard Col Carstone say that and thought
it sounded high toned.
| That there might be no possibility of mis-
understanding, Mis- Simpkins came out fiat
| footed with the question:
"Boss goin' crazy, amt hes"
Sam flared up nightly. The honor of the
Carstone family hung upon him. He felt
the responsibility of the occasion. He an
swered.
"Goramitey, Mis- Smpkins Linwood
peoples pack o po' white trash, da'ts what
deJ ar. Folks what's got plenty brains don't
| 60 crazy. 1t don't run in der families. It's
| only yer po trash dat loses der Minis, an dey
lose em huntin' arter other peoples business.
l spects to hyar dat all Linwood's moved
into de loonattic asylum befo' long. Yah!
YAH" With a twinkle of white teeth, and a
bobbing of gray head, Sam turned his back
on Lnwood.
But he looked very grave when next day
| Col Castone said he meant to start that
afternoon to the city. A look of intelligence
passed between Shirley and the old servitor.
Papa said Shirley, "don't you think Sam
had better go with you" 1t irritated him.
II think" he answered, that l am still
| capable of taking care of myself"
"Oh WELL no offense, Col Carstone," said
Shirley, lightly. She thought to soothe his
wounded pride. at will be a relief to you to
get away from taking care of the trouble
some pack of us here
Her fathers brief anger was over. He
| turned his eye upon the group that gathered
to see him off, the handsome, merry children,
| the beautiful, elder daughter, and the tender,
pretty mother of them all He glanced from
one to another with a look Of love and pride
| Then he kissed them, one after another,
which was a work of time there were so many
of them, A new baby had taken the place
of the old one. There were always babies in
the stone house. The father kissed the tiny
newcomer last of all. Then he placed it in
, Shirleys arms, not his wifes And he said:
Take care of your mother, Shirley. Take
care of them all.
Those were his last words to them.
He descended the hill with his slightly
dragging gait, and they saw him no moro.
In many day the colonel had not felt so
well as he did next morning. A sense of ex-
hilaration and a feeling of youth and lightness
lifted him quite beyond the gloom that had
oppressed him for weeks. He was passion
ately fond of music. In earlier days lie him
self had been an amateur singer of no com
mon ability. a famous prima donna was
singing in opera in Chesterton this very week.
On the evening of that day Norma was to
| be given. 1t was one of his old favorites.
/ Tender memories were joined with it for
him. 1t was at u performance of Norma he
first met his wife. Through twenty-five
years of happy life that night smiled back on
him.
What a lily of girl his Alice was then,
in her white dress and white gloves, with
flowers in her hair. Not at all like Shirley.
! Their daughter was of a stronger mold-and
he was glad of it, perhaps. but if ever there
was "A flower maiden on earth, his sweet Alice
had been one. If ever wife was faithful,
tender, and lovely, the flower maiden had
been so to him. How happy, thrice happy,
she had ladc him. His lot had been blessed
/ above that of common men. He smiled as he
thought of all this
The airs in the fine old composition were
Col. CarStone's especial favorites, and they
were enchantingly sung. He listened like a
bird to catch each golden note, and smiled
with exquisite happiness as the sweet, well
remembered strains iioated to his ear.
. H.,
audience was a brilliant one. Hundreds of
refined and cultured musical people had gath
cred to give warm greeting to their priced
! singers. The ladies were in light, flowcr-like
dresses, fairly rivalng the loveliness of ma
/ lures own blossoms, likewise scattered there
in profusion. The lights shone like stars. The
air was sweet with perfume and melody. The
scene was like fairy garden. Not one who
( was there ever forgot it.
In one of the pauses of the noble music II
hush like the breath of night fell on the great
audience. They were stilled till almost a
heart beat could be heard.
Into the midst of this exquisite silence, after
this strain of celestial melody, a blood
curdling cry broke. A man was seen to fall
forward. 1t was Col Carstone. He had been
stricken dead in one moment.
Examination revealed that he had received
a fatal brain injury from the fall in the State
Line road months before. The wonder was
he had lived so long
They took his body home to the stone house
Death had conquered. Never again would
the busy brain work and the strong arm be
lifted to protect his own. Never, though
they die of hunger, or be driven out homeless
Though their innocent blood cry to heaven,
that which lies there in the coffin will not
hear.
Yet Death, the victor, laid his hand lightly
upon the dead man. The marblo like nte-
nance took on beauty, a II, hess, y ca, a
majesty, that glorified it beyond any comeli-
ness the face of the living man ever wore. 1t
was so grand beauty that even the rustic
neighbors noted it, and spoke of it years after
ward. Whatever was good in his nature